I BELIEVE THERE is always a time more fitting for a new start, a new page, a new chapter filled with stories that are bound to unfold and embrace an eager spirit. For the last 2 and a half years, I kept looking for that page in my book, but I felt like I never found it or, if I ever did, the stories were all short-lived.
Last December I prepared this blog to come back to my writer self, to at least be at peace with my inner being once more. But in the last few days of my 2014, what felt like a prologue to a new story reached an abrupt, disappointing end. To say the least, I have lost my eagerness to write my book yet again. Right now, for the nth time, I have nothing and I am nobody. But unlike last time, I want to look at things through a different lens. I want to see the world with my arms stretched and my face leaning towards the sun.
Indeed, a blank page has always been very intimidating for our inner writers. There will always be that time when you either give up at it entirely or push your writer to start at anything until you find something. Today I choose the latter. I will write my story, and I shall push myself to have so many things to tell. Maybe today I do not see it as the most fitting time to start this blog, but, on hindsight, maybe in the future I will do. After all, a blank page, a clean slate, holds a promise that at the right time, another story will unfold. A blank page is a blank page and never less. In fact, it can be more. Its lack of words may already speak for itself, or it may simply need words and proses. And once I start writing from this nothingness, there is no other thing to do but continue to the next page, the next chapter, even to the next book.
And so this blog I start with a mantra I have been living by, or at least trying to live by, for the last few years:
“Jump, and the net will appear.”
(If it doesn’t, you’ll learn that you have wings.)
This Diarist 